


When The Walls Come Down

by LaviniaAurora



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, First Blade, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Dean, Mark of Cain, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam, Spoilers Season 10 Episode 14
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaviniaAurora/pseuds/LaviniaAurora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*SPOILERS*</p><p>Following the death of Cain, Castiel and Sam must fight to keep Dean from going over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visions of Blood

First FanFic. Be kind. 

 

* * *

 

Dean is amazed that Sam has found the nest of vampires. Seemingly out of nowhere, Sam approached him with a hunch that there is a nest settled outside of a small town a couple of hours south of the bunker. He isn't sure if he had just been too self-absorbed to notice the subtle nesting patterns or if he had underestimated Sam’s talent for scouting cases.

When they left the bunker early that morning, Dean was going along with Sam’s hunch merely to get out of the bunker. Following the confrontation and the execution of Cain, the brothers had been spending the majority of their time relaxing in the bunker in a vain attempt to decompress before figuring out their next move. The opportunity to eliminate the nest of vamps was a perfect distraction from the constant anxiety that stemmed from the unyielding mark on Dean’s arm.

The brothers took their time casing out an old farm house that the vampires had taken over. “I counted four. That’s a pretty small nest. I think we can handle it.” Sam walks towards Dean who had already made it back to their designated meeting place behind a thick growth of trees and underbrush.

“There are five. The leader is in the back room alone.”

Sam nods in acknowledgement. “Do you want take it from the front or back?”

Unable to help himself, Dean grimaces. “Dude, that’s just wrong.” He moves past Sam shaking his head and making his way towards the front of the house.

Failing to suppress an exasperated sigh, Sam stealthily moves along the west side of the house towards the back entrance.

Dean eases the front door of the house open and winces as the hinges moan in protest. After a few moments of silence he continues through the small opening. He holds a ten inch steel blade in his right hand. It’s nothing compared to the First Blade, but it will be just as deadly to vampires in the next room.

Choosing his steps carefully on the wooden floor, Dean walks to the front bedroom, where four of the vampires are sleeping. His plan is to kill at least two of them before the others awake.

As he moves into the room something feels strange, like a bend in time, but he can’t place why the room is off. Two of the vamps are lying on a mattress on the floor while the other two are reclined on opposite ends of an old musty couch.

Dean decides to handle the vamps on the couch first, finding the positions behind each end are less awkward then leaning over the mattress on the floor. He will be more efficient.

He stands behind the male vampire with yellow curls and swiftly brings the blade down through his neck, catching the head so that it does not thump on the floor. Quickly, he moves on to the red head that is beginning to stir at the other end. He is not as successful with her, however, and she let out a small squeal before Dean completes his mission.

He glances up to see the other two vamps jumping up to defend themselves. The larger one lunges towards him and he reacts with practiced reflexes, turning as he dodges the attack and thrusting his knife at the opening his assailant presents. He looks at the vampire he had just stabbed in a failed attempt to behead, but the creature that stares back at him is not a vampire, he is Crowley. Reality shifts as he pulls out the blade made of bone; the blade that sends a sudden power coursing through his veins.

Confused, Dean backs away from Crowley and the other vampire jumps him from behind. Without thinking he flips the vamp over and makes quick work with his new blade.

“Dean! What are you doing?” He looks up at his brother’s panicked tone. Sam stands a few yards in front of him in the doorway with his hands held forward as though he’s approaching a frightened animal.

Dean glances down to see Castiel’s severed head.

The room spins and a strange black shadow begins to creep up the walls, swallowing the dim light in the room. When Dean looks back to Sam, his eyes are completely black. He takes a step towards Sam, “Just following my destiny Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

Dean feels strong hands shaking his shoulders and he tries to twist free from the assault.

“Dean! Wake up!”

It was Sam’s voice, so it must be Sam’s hands. Immediately, he relaxed only to find that he could feel a deep ache throughout his body. Attempting to open his eyes, he found that it was much harder than it ought to be and the effort quickly made him nauseous.

“Sammy?” His voice was coarse from lack of use.

“It’s ok. You’re ok.” Sam’s voice had turned from the original demanding tone to a soothing one. “You’re in the bunker. You’ve been knocked out for the past couple of days.”

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure, but Cas and I are working on it. Dean, we will find out what is wrong and we will fix it.”


	2. Disturbing Recap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a FYI, the story is moving away from story line at the end of episode 10X14.

_We will fix it? What the hell is Sam talking about?_ “Sam, what’s going on?” Dean’s voice is weak and sounds foreign to his own ears.

 

As Sam hesitates, Dean gains awareness of his surroundings. They are in his room at the bunker. His limbs are heavy and minor movements send jolts of deep throbbing pain through his entire body. His right arm is twisted around some tubes—an IV. If it didn’t hurt to move he would take the annoying thing out of his arm. He’s not wearing a shirt or pants, just his boxer briefs, but he is covered to his chest with heavy blankets and propped up against pillows on the headboard of his bed. Someone had rigged up an IV stand on the side of his bed and the tubing runs from his arm to a bag with clear liquid. He notices that there are bandages around his upper arms, forearms, and thighs as well as a large bandage wrapped around his torso; they are uncomfortable and irritate his skin. He can also feel the stitches that are pulling his skin together under the bandages.

 

“Don’t move Dean, your wounds are deep.” Sam quickly stops Dean as he attempts to sit up in the bed. “I’m going to check your bandages. You may have pulled your stitches when you were asleep.” Sam carefully pulled back the blankets covering Dean to his waist and began to inspect the tightly wrapped bandages on his arms and around his stomach.

 

“They’re too tight.” Dean scratched out. Sam reached over to the night stand and lifted a glass of water with a straw to Dean’s mouth. Dean gave him an incredulous glare before taking the end of the straw in his mouth. The cool water felt good on his dry throat.

 

“Sorry about that. We, uh, had a difficult time getting the bleeding to stop.” Sam returned the glass to the nightstand and turned his attention back to the bandages. There were no red stains to indicate that the wounds had started bleeding again.

 

Sam then pulled the blankets lower to check Dean’s legs and after a quick and efficient assessment he covered dean with the blankets once again. Dean tries to diffuse the awkwardness that stems from his helplessness, “Sam, you’re not my choice nurse. Can’t you find some foxy red head to play the part?” But it doesn’t come across with his signature swagger; he is too tired and weak.  

 

“Dean.” Sam answers in his exasperated tone as he pulls up a chair next to Dean’s side.

 

“Just a suggestion. Better yet, isn’t there an angle who can make quick work of this healing crap?”

 

Again, Sam hesitates. This immediately puts dean on edge and he moves to get out of the bed.

 

“Damn it Dean, stop. You’re going to make it worse.” Sam ushers Dean to relax before he continued. “Cas is fine but he couldn’t heal you.”

 

Dean lifts his brow but waits for Sam to explain. Sam rest is elbows on his knees and cradles his head before he continues, “We’re not sure why. It could be that his borrowed grace isn’t enough or it could be something else.”

 

“Something else, like what?”

 

Sam looks up to meet Dean’s eyes, “We don’t know.”

 

At that Dean notices a persistent ache behind his eyes. He closes them and rests his head against the pillows that had been propped up behind him. “How long have I been out?”

 

“Four days.”

 

Dean’s eyes snap opened. “What happened?”

 

“We don’t know.”

 

“Sam, what the hell do you know?”

 

“What do you remember?”

 

“Nothing. I mean the last thing I remember is Cain.”

 

“That you finished him?”

 

Dean responded with a dark look and a simple “Yes.”

 

“After we left the farm, you were catatonic.”

 

“Cata what?”

 

“It was like you were in a daze, sleep walking, or something.”

 

Dean nods for Sam to continue, “Ok, and then what happened?”

 

“We came back here and you came straight to your room without a word, shut the door, and locked it.” Dean glances over to his door, which is gone, busted off the hinges. “I followed you and heard you screaming, but you had already done the damage before I could get to you.”

 

“Wait a minute, you mean I did this… to myself?” The disbelief is evident in his voice as he turns his palms up looks at the bandages on his arms.

 

“Yeah, but you weren’t yourself Dean. You didn’t do this consciously.” Sam pauses a moment to let Dean process everything. “You lost a lot of blood before Cas showed up here. When he couldn’t heal you we bandaged your wounds tight to stop the bleeding and started a transfusion.”

 

“You mean a blood transfusion?” _This must be a dream too._ Dean is sure that this could not have happened. “Where did you get the blood?”

 

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “I keep it stocked, just in case.”

 

“Just in case I go crazy and bleed myself.”

 

“No.”

 

It then dawns on Dean that Sam keeps his blood type stocked in case he needs to perform the demon cure again. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Ok, so you did a transfusion… how did you know how to do that?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Well that’s comforting.”

 

“Anyway, after the transfusion we stitched you up and you’ve been knocked out ever since. We left the IV as a precaution and it’s been useful to keep you hydrated and we even gave you some antibiotics.”

 

Dean and Sam sit in silence as the details of Dean’s incident sink in. Dean looks over to his younger brother who seems very tired himself. “Sam, this is crazy.”

 

“I know.” Sam sighs and stands up from the chair next to Dean’s bed. “I’m going to let Charlie and Cas know that you’re awake.”

 

“Charlie is here?”

 

Sam nods as he walks towards the door, “Yes, I called her and asked her to come and help out a couple of days ago.”


	3. A Working Theory

Charlie walks into Dean’s room in front of Sam, obviously eager to see Dean awake. She hops onto the side of Dean’s bed without hesitating and then carefully hugs him like he’s an old lady with brittle bones. He returns her hug and lifts his free hand to touch the back of her head. The small movement takes all of his strength and he thinks that maybe he is an old lady with brittle bones. When Charlie pulls a way she gives Dean her megawatt smile.

“Hey Kiddo, how was Tuscany?” Dean is happy to see Charlie but the memory of their last encounter left him feeling guilty. Dean had nearly beaten Charlie to a pulp because of the Mark; however it wasn’t really Charlie… it was Dark Charlie and he had temporarily forgotten that Dark Charlie and Good Charlie were physically linked.

“Oh, you know… lots of wine and poppies… it kinda reminded me of Oz actually… anyways, No luck on the research to remove the Mark; The Book of the Damned by Fort the quack was a big dead end. I think I might have a lead on a Hebrew text that could tell us something. I have some contacts looking into it for me.”

“Contacts?” Dean is reluctant to pull anyone else into this life or team up with other hunters. They might try to get rid of him and that would only make their problems, whatever they may be, worse.

“Oh, they don’t know why they’re looking for it … they think I’m a history professor at Oxford and that they’re competing for a position as my graduate research assistant.”

Dean’s brows lift and he nods in approval. “That’s my girl.”

Charlie shrugs her shoulder at Dean’s praise.

Sam takes the seat next to Dean’s bed and brings the other two back to the problem at hand. “Cas and Charlie have come up with a theory for that slice and dice act you pulled.”

“Well…” Dean nodded for him to continue.

“We think that this might have something to do with the Curse of Cain.” Charlie blurted out.

Dean shook his head and glanced at Sam before leveling his gaze at Charlie, “What do you mean? Cain never tried to bleed himself.”

Charlie took a breath and delved into her theory, “Well, no, but he did kill himself in an attempt to stop working for Lucifer. Little did he know that death would turn him into a big bad. It’s a possibility that the mark is trying to kill you so that you will become a demon again.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t fly. That’s not what happened the last time.”

“Just hear her out.” Sam cut in and encouraged Charlie to continue.

“Ok…” Charlie took a moment to collect her thoughts and continued, “Cain wasn’t just cursed with a blood lust to kill people. The mark was a protection as well. According to the Hebrew bible, anyone who killed Cain would be cursed sevenfold.”

Dean’s mind was sluggish and slow, probably from the blood loss, transfusion, and being unconscious for several days, and he did not have the patience to figure out the riddles Sam and Charlie were speaking, “What the hell does that even mean?”

Much to Dean’s annoyance, Sam couldn’t contain his nerdy enthusiasm as he explained, “Ok, in Genesis, -God put a Mark on Cain for protection against those who might try to kill him because of what he had done to Able and the theory is that this mark would let everyone know that he is off limits.”

“So, whoever kills Cain will die too?”

Sam shook his head, “We’re not really sure and the fact that you have the mark yourself makes it even more complicated.”

Dean groaned, why does everything have to be so complicated, why couldn’t they just kill monsters. “But we know that God didn’t curse Cain, Lucifer put that mark on Cain to make him a demon.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean that there isn’t a curse on anyone who tried to kill Cain.”

“But no one could kill Cain, not really. Why would Lucifer care if Cain became a demon? Why would he protect him from death?” Dean was becoming more agitated and he tried to get up so he could pace the room.

Charlie gently pushed on his shoulder so that he would lay back down, “That’s not true Dean, you killed Cain.”

Dean looked exhausted and it seemed that the circles under his eyes were darkening as they spoke. Even to himself he sounded defeated when he finally responded, “Damn it, this is such a mess.”

Sam looked at his brother and softly spoke, “Dean you should really get some more rest. We can talk about this later.”

Irritated with his own weakness the older brother retorted, “Evidently I’ve been resting for four days.”

Sam smirked as he stood up and took a moment to rest his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Well you still look like shit. You should rest. We don’t have any answers right now and you don’t like doing research anyway.”

Dean shoved him off with the little strength he had and Sam left the room leaving Charlie behind.

“Aren’t you going with him?” Dean watches Charlie as she settles into the chair beside his bed and pulls out her tablet.

“Nope.” She’s already making herself comfortable in the chair like she plans to be there for a while.

This instantly makes Dean suspicious. “And why’s that?”

Charlie, unable to lie to Dean, looks guilty when she answers, “Well… I just want to keep you company until you’re asleep.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

There is a moment of silence and Dean curses inwardly. _Damn it, they’ve got him on watch!_

“You are my babysitter.”

Charlie smiles at his indignant tone, “No worries, I can catch up on my favorite fanfics. If you want I can read to you, this one is a slash fiction with Hermione and Princess Leia.

“No, as hot as it sounds, I really do not want you to read that to me.”

“Oh, it’s not that graphic.”

“That’s even worse.”


	4. A New Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever write yourself into a place where you think... well crap... now what?

“This is ridiculous.” Dean’s bed rest had lasted long enough in his own not so humble opinion. Since waking up to find seven large gashes in his body, he had been coddled beyond the point of annoyance and it doesn’t seem like the three stooges are going to let him move around on his own anytime soon. Although he had drawn a firm line at using a damn bed pan or having his brother hover over him while using the facilities (as far he was concerned he could bleed to death before he suffered those indignities); he had not been able to convince them to budge on anything else.

“Yes, I do believe you have expressed that several times.” Cas was currently on Dean duty and the angel’s obvious disregard of Dean’s opinion on the matter set his teeth on edge.

“Yes, I have expressed that several times, because you idiots will not listen to me!” Dean’s frustration peaking. It had been three weeks. Three weeks of misery not being allowed to leave the bed unless he was flanked by Cas and Sam. The continuous monitoring and restrictions were driving him crazy. If he were allowed out of his damn bed, he’d be climbing the walls, but he wasn’t and he had been threatened with restraints and sedatives if he didn’t behave. It was for his “own good” of course. “I cannot lie around in this bed forever. Cas, please I need to move around. I need to do something.”

“Dean, it’s not forever,” Cas stated reasonably, “but your wounds are not healing at a normal rate. Yes, they are better, but Sam says that we should have been able to take out the stiches by now. So for now, your brother thinks it is best for you to stay in bed and I agree.” Cas doesn’t even to bother to look up at Dean from the heavy tome in his lap. Of his three guardians, Cas is the worst entertainer, he doesn’t even rise to the bait of a good argument. His tone just remains reasonable, his words leave no room for contradiction, and for the most part he ignores Dean’s protests.

Dean thumps his head back down on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling, sulking. They are right, the deep cuts are concerning. Just yesterday morning they started bleeding after he was finally able to talk Sam into allowing him to take a shower, alone obviously. Sam had insisted on a damn shower chair and set everything up within Dean’s reach, but Dean had dropped the shampoo and when he reached down to grab the bottle some of the stiches across his stomach and the upper part of his right arm pulled out. He had quickly finished washing and covered his important bits with a towel before calling out to his brother, but Sam was pissed when he saw the red stains. Dean had rolled his eyes throughout Sam’s lecture about being careless as his brother re-sutured his wounds and wrapped the fresh bandages unnecessarily tight as some kind of twisted retribution for Dean’s stupidity. As penance, Dean had laid off on the hostile remarks about his forced bed rest for the rest of the day.

To add to his frustration, they hadn’t really found anything to explain his random blackout and the resulting self-mutilation. It was obviously related to the Mark and the fact that he used the first blade to kill Cain, but they had not been able to determine why or if it would happen again. Luckily, he hadn’t had any other “episodes,” but the weight of the worry had not lifted and it was almost palpable.

Spending such an extended amount of time on his back, Dean had been trying to remember what had happened after he had ganked Cain. So far he had been able to remember a lot about that night. He remembered feeling the surge of power as he had opened himself up to the draw from the blade. He remembered the blood lust bubbling up inside him. He remembered the sick satisfaction when the blade had sliced through Cain’s neck. He remembered the struggle to grasp at reason and come back into himself before facing his brother and Cas. He remembered feeling ashamed of his dark thirst for blood and shaky like he was coming down from a dangerously addictive drug. He remembered giving the blade to Cas just before collapsing into Sam’s arms. After that he doesn’t remember a lot of details about what had been going on around him. He doesn’t remember the drive or arriving at the bunker but he does remember a strange feeling. A feeling like something was trying to be pulled out from the core of his body. It was an energy rushing out from his center to the tips of his head, hands, and feet, at the same time a crushing weight all over his body like it was trying to collapse into himself. The feeling he was going to implode and explode at the same time. The pressure had been immense, but it hadn’t really been painful. His mind had blanked at the sensation.

Sam had bugged him until he agreed to write everything he could remember down in a little note book that stayed by his bedside. Any time he recalled anything he would write it down. It had been a week since the last time he remembered something and they had all pretty much concluded that he wouldn’t remember other details. It didn’t stop him from trying though… and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Surprisingly, he was growing tired of Netflix.

“What’s up bitches?” Dean looked at the clock and couldn’t help but groan when Charlie came into the room. Not that he didn’t love the kid, but it was time for Charlie to play nurse and she took her duties too seriously. While Cas and Sam would pretty much ignore him and let him sulk in peace, Charlie was the self-designated physical therapist and trauma counselor. Dean had pleaded with Sam to make Charlie stop, but the traitor had just smirked and left his helpless brother at Charlie’s mercy.

Charlie, it seemed, had done extensive research on bedsores and blood clots since Dean was mostly immobile. She had also deemed it necessary to show Dean YouTube videos of the consequences of not properly caring for invalids like him. It had only taken a few gruesome videos and images to get him to fold to Charlie’s persistent prodding and agree to her ministrations. Every day she came in to help him do simple exercises so he wouldn’t develop blood clots in his legs and adjust the pillows around his body so he didn’t have his weight constantly pressing down in the same place. At this rate they may as well put him in a nursing home because that’s exactly what he felt like… an old, dilapidated man.

Charlie didn’t allow Dean’s irritation to faze her in the least. She took to her duties with the enthusiasm that she generally approached everything. She started pulling the heavy blankets down from Dean’s waist. “Cas, get out of here.” Dean gruffly snapped at the angel but the angel had already started moving towards the door. He may be forced to stay in bed and be helpless against Charlie’s prescribed treatments, but there was no way in hell he was going to have an audience for this shit. He also had demanded proper clothes after that first day when he woke up wearing his boxer briefs. He didn’t like the feeling vulnerable and lying around in his underwear definitely made him feel vulnerable. They had compromised on loose cotton sleep pants and a baggy zip up hoodie. He was completely clothed, but if needed there was easy access to his bandages.

Despite Charlie’s clinical touches Dean felt his face heat up. He always felt awkward and embarrassed as they moved through the stretches. It was mostly because it made him feel weak and useless. He was supposed to be the care taker, the protector, and the strong one; it made him uneasy whenever that role was reversed.

Charlie repositioned the pillows and helped him set up a little more and turned on the classic rock play list she had made for Dean on his laptop for therapy purposes. She had installed some Bluetooth speakers in Dean’s room and it helped him relax a little while they worked his legs. The established routine was “physical therapy” at 7:00 AM, 12:00 PM, and 6:00 PM, just before breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (The IV had been removed fairly quickly after he woke up… Dean may have made that decision on his own accord.) Charlie would help Dean go through his basic stretches and then Sam would bring in a meal that they would all share together. Charlie and Sam would then maneuver Dean into a different position to keep his weight shifted. The lack of control that he had over his body was humiliating and it only added to his foul mood.

“Let’s get this over with.” Dean grumbled, but Charlie’s grin just widened. The first stretch just involved Dean wiggling his socked feet. He scowled at his feet as worked his ankles around in a circular motion. It honestly felt good, it was some of the only movements he was allowed and even though he would never admit it to Charlie, he was glad that she had insisted on the stretches. As he worked out his ankles, Charlie sat down on the bed next to his legs watching his movements and folding a thick towel that would be used for a few of his other stretches.

“So, when do you want to start Jessica Jones?” Dean had insisted on a break from Netflix but Charlie promised that she would wait for him to start the new Netflix show. A small smile formed on Dean’s face unwillingly. Dean knew that Charlie was crushing on Krysten Ritter, the actress who played Jessica Jones. He could understand the attraction, but he was more excited about the actress playing Jessica Jone’s friend/sister himself… he couldn’t remember her name though.

Dean grunted as Charlie signaled for him to start his next stretch “point and flex.” It was a damn ballerina stretch. “I guess we could start it tonight when we have dinner, Sam may want to watch it too.”

Charlie smiled “Awesome sauce, I’ll ask Cas too.” Dean nodded at that. Charlie had really hit it off with Cas. They hadn’t met before this catastrophe but they quickly made up for lost time. While Cas had been thrown off balance at first by her bubbly personality, he now adored Charlie. He had confessed to Dean that his bond with Charlie may be more “profound” than his bond with the brothers and Dean couldn’t blame him. He and Sam didn’t exactly have sunny personalities but Charlie was a sun shining into all of their lives.

“Alright, next stretch.” Charlie carefully lifted Dean’s feet and he made a conscious effort not to jerk away as she placed the folded towel under his feet before gently sitting them back down on the bed. The stretches, he found, became more uncomfortable has they moved through the routine; the easy ones first and the harder ones at the end. For this stretch he had to flex his feet back and hold the stretch for 20 seconds at a time. Definitely not the hardest stretch, but he hated the overextended feeling in his calves.  

All through the stretches Charlie rambled and maintained a one sided conversation. Dean remained focused on the music and his movements as Charlie cautiously monitored his technique to make sure he didn’t harm himself. The next stretch involved Charlie carefully moving Dean’s leg up to bend at the knee with his foot flat on the bed  and pausing for a few seconds before adjusting it back down. She repeated the motion six or eight times before moving to the other leg. Dean tried to keep his muscles relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to flex or move on his own for this stretch because it would cause the cuts on his legs to bleed.

Dean prepared himself for the last stretch; most definitely the hardest and the one he hated the most. Charlie waited for him to nod his assent before she refolded the towel into a long band and placed it under his right ankle. Together they would hold the “strap” that the towel formed and pull is leg up. Dean had to make sure his knee stayed locked and straight while keeping his other leg flat on the bed. It pulled the muscles on the back of his leg uncomfortably and he had to be careful not to use his abs or his stomach would start bleeding. He mostly relied on Charlie’s strength to lift his leg and he concentrated on not tensing or moving. They only did five leg lifts on each leg and took long breaks between each one.

Dean is amazed that the basic stretches actually make him break a sweat every time. It just shows how soft he is getting lying around all day. Charlie hands him a warm wash cloth that she always brings with her and he wipes down his face and neck. Dean tries to distract himself for the last part of their routine, leaning his head back on the wall, closing his eyes, and listening to a bluesy Led Zeppelin song. Charlie starts at his right foot, massaging the arch and around his toes, she’ll work up to his ankles, his calves, knees, and carefully massage around his thigh. Then she will repeat the process with his left leg. It felt really good, but Dean was uncomfortable with being cared for with such tenderness.

He had received his fair share of massages and touches from women, but with Charlie it was different. There was nothing remotely romantic or sexual. It was just an abiding love and care for a friend or a big brother. Dean had always felt unworthy of her love and her selflessness was overwhelming. So, he laid his head back and tried to ignore the rush of humbling emotion that he felt for his adopted little sister that he never wanted but now found he couldn’t live without.

 

 


End file.
